


Tell Me Something That'll Change Me

by laurelhips



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Dentistry, Humor, M/M, Miscommunication, Nick Grimshaw & Harry Styles Friendship, Nick Grimshaw & Louis Tomlinson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:25:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6665833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurelhips/pseuds/laurelhips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What <i>happened</i> to me, you fucking—” Louis’ eyes shot open as he felt a burst of cold air into his mouth. <i>That doesn’t usually happen...does it?</i>, Louis thought. Something didn’t <i>feel</i> right. Immediately, Louis’ hand flew to his mouth, feeling around his upper row of teeth only to find a small gap...<i>where both his front teeth were chipped half off.</i></p>
<p>A self-indulgent vampire!Harry fic featuring miscommunication, shady dentistry, and a hint at heavy petting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me Something That'll Change Me

**Author's Note:**

> This fic could alternatively be titled "Let's Blame Nick". Title is from Lady Gaga's _Teeth_ which, as you can probably guess, is what inspired this whole thing.
> 
> Let it be known that I purposely ignored most of the rules surrounding dentistry and medicine. This is fiction, please forgive me.

The first thing Louis registered was that his head was fucking _pounding_ . He could feel his pulse in his _teeth_ , he could hear his heartbeat in his jaw. The second thing he became aware of were three shadows, looming over him beyond his eyelids. The third thing that came through was the sighs of relief as his eyelids began to twitch and flutter before slowly blinking open, even though it was against Louis’ first instinct to keep them shut and block out the glaring sun. Louis groaned and pressed his palm to his face. 

“What _happened_?” Louis croaked.

“Oh sweet fucking hell, Tommo, you gave us a bloody fright!” Nick was chuckling as he said it, hands rested on his knees as he bent over.

“We thought you were comatose! This wasn’t the time for a fucking nap, mate,” Liam chastised, though the look on his face looked more relieved than annoyed.

“What _happened_ to me, you fucking—” Louis’ eyes shot open as he felt a burst of cold air into his mouth. _That doesn’t usually happen_ ... _does it_ ?, Louis thought. Something didn’t _feel_ right. Immediately, Louis’ hand flew to his mouth, feeling around his upper row of teeth only to find a small gap... _where both his front teeth were chipped half off_.

“What the _f_ —” Louis felt himself yelp as he inhaled another sharp burst of air. Sitting up propped on his left elbow he began to investigate further. There was no blood, which was a relief. But that only softened the blow of losing practically _both his fucking front teeth_.

“You got a strike right to the face, Tommo,” Aiden was kneeling beside him, but keeping his distance. “Close contact, too, you tripped going in for the steal and instead ended up with, well,” Aiden trailed off, his brows furrowed in sympathy while his mouth betrayed him by quirking up in a struggling-to-be-repressed smile.

“Big ol’ ball in your face, which you _usually_ don’t mind, innit right Tommo?” Nick crouched down to Aiden’s level, reaching out to Louis and tousling his hair with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Which one of you f—, which one of you _did this_ ?” Louis self-consciously kept his hand hovering over his mouth, not pressing down but shielding it from the eyes of his friends. He could only imagine how fucking _ridiculous_ he looked right now, puffy eyed and _toothless_.

“Erm, that would be—” Aiden started.

“It was me, of course,” Nick shrugged carelessly. “Better my balls than Payno’s, innit?” Nick chortled at his own joke, Aiden bit his lips in a show of strength, refraining from breaking his resolve.

If Louis was being honest, it probably _was_ better that it was Nick than Liam; Liam’s kicks were far more powerful and far less forgiving, he probably would’ve kicked straight through Louis’ skull, or detached his head from his body altogether.

“It was just an accident, you know that right? I’d never do this, like, on _purpose_ ,” Nick scrambled at Louis’ long silence, backtracking and dropping into a more serious tone of voice.

Louis winced as he sat up more fully, scrunching his eyes at the steady _thump thump thump_ happening between his ears.

“I know that, Grimmy. If y’wanted me dead I’d be long gone by now,” Louis briefly smirked in Nick’s direction, simply to let him know there were no hard feelings. Endless blackmail? _Absolutely_ ; Louis would never climb the six flights up stairs up to his and Nick’s shared flat _ever again_. Friendship resignation? Not even close, they’d definitely been through worse, being friends with Nick Grimshaw for half a decade made sure of that.

Nick returned a soft smile, an honest one.

“I’m glad you’re alright, mate,” Nick started. “Liam was about to start calling your family and delivering the bad news: Tommo’s dead, ball to the face, _no_ Mrs. Deakin, not _those_ kind of balls!” Nick chuckled with Aiden, Louis felt himself crack a half smile while rolling his eyes half-heartedly.

“Laugh it up, Nick, but I was the only one remotely prepared for the worst.” Liam had his arms crossed, nodding emphatically.

“Tommo’s a fighter, Payno. He’s not going down that easy, are ya love?” Aiden, feeling more brave, reached out to lightly punch Louis’ shoulder.

“Seems to me like you underestimate Grimmy’s balls, which _I_ for one find surprising considering your familiarity with th—” Liam was cut off by Aiden reaching over Louis and swatting Liam in the balls. Liam lurched forward, clutching at his crotch and groaning unpleasantly.

“You deserved that one, mate,” Louis chuckled, Nick also dissolving into giggles while Aiden’s cheeks flushed a rosy shade.

 

* * *

 

Louis stood on his tiptoes as he leaned closer to the mirror over the bathroom sink, getting a good look at his toothless state.

“I can’t go to work like this, I’ll scare away customers,” Louis groaned before dropping his heels back to the floor.

“As if chipped teeth are the reason for that, Tommo,” Nick commented as he breezed past the open bathroom door towards the kitchen.

“Think you’re so _fucking_ funny, Grimmy,” Louis muttered.

“S’cause I _am_ ,” Nick sing-songed as he made his way back to his room.

“What am I supposed to do? I have auditions to go to this month, I can’t go looking like _this_.” Louis furrowed his brows and felt his lower lip jut out, a very well rehearsed pout.

“If the role is for a ‘grouchy, worse-for-wear villager’ I think you’ll do just fine,” Nick chuckled, making another length to the kitchen.

“I’m _serious_ , Nick, I can’t afford to get these fixed,” Louis felt the weight of the situation resting on his shoulders. His student debt was enough of a financial burden, on top of rent, and groceries, and his phone bill; baristas only made so much, he was barely staying afloat as it was, he couldn’t afford to dig into his nonexistent pockets to shell out enough for new _teeth_.

“I—” Nick hesitated in the doorway, drumming his fingers on the doorframe. “I _might_ be able to help you out,” Nick drawled, a slight downturn to his lips.

“What do you mean?” Louis turned to face him more fully, cocking his hip and resting it on the bathroom counter.

“I have a friend,” Nick started slowly. “He’s...well, he’s _technically_ a dentist, like, _technically_ speaking,” Nick fumbled, his words drawn out and calculated.

“What do you mean ‘ _technically_ ’?” Louis crossed his arms, fixing Nick with a suspicious stare.

“Well, like, he _is_ a dentist. He just...doesn’t run, like, a proper business. He works from home.” Nick avoided Louis’ eyes as he spoke. Louis stared at him blankly.

“A dentist...who...works...from home?” Louis’ eyebrows inched towards his hairline as he spoke.

“It’s...it sounds more sketchy than it is,” Nick replied, scratching the back of his neck. “He runs like, a free clinic. Does all sorts of procedures, no fee. Only does it through referrals, though.” Nick shrugged.

“What’s the catch then?” Louis raised a suspicious brow, meeting Nick’s gaze in the mirror.

“Catch?”

“Yes, the ‘catch’. Does he cut out your organs and sell them on the black market? Does he, like, have his way with you? Is he the fucking tooth fairy, what is it Nick?” Louis threw his hands up in mild exasperation. A free clinic sounded too good to be true, and Nick _knew_ that. But Nick was also a good friend, the odds of him leading Louis astray were slim.

Nick chortled slightly, covering his face with his hand. 

“Well, th-there’s this one thing…” Nick paused, exhaling sharply. “He—it’s...it’s unimportant. The _important_ thing is that it’s free and I feel like I owe you, because I did this to you,” Nick reasoned, apologetically. “All I ask is that you keep it quiet, this isn’t the sort of thing you can bark about at the pub.” Nick sighed, leaning on the countertop.

“Now, do you want your teeth fixed or not? He doesn’t just do this kind of stuff for anyone,” Nick inquired with a sense of finality, _take it or leave it, Tommo_.

Louis sighed heavily, wiping at his face with both hands.

“What’s his number?”

 

* * *

 

Louis strolled up to the brownstone building. The flat directly in the middle of the cluster of flats had a small golden plaque affixed to it the door: _H. E. Styles._ Louis stared at the sign perhaps longer than was necessary.

The whole idea of a free dental clinic run out of a flat in West London was still off-putting. It didn’t _make_ any sense, and yet here he was, two teeth nubs and empty pockets.

When he’d tried to call Dr. Styles and make an appointment the phone had gone directly to voicemail, _maybe he’s with a patient_ , Louis had assumed. So Louis left a standard message, and anticipated having to wait at least a few hours before he heard back. Almost as soon as he’d hung up a text message came through from Dr. Styles himself:

**Hello, I’m Dr. H. E. Styles. May I inquire who referred you?**

Louis’ eyes were wide, _how did he reply so fast_?

**_Hi, I’m Louis Tomlinson. Nick Grimshaw referred me?_ **

Louis barely had to wait a moment before another message came through.

**Grimshaw, excellent. And you understand the terms of our arrangement?**

Louis squinted his eyes, _I don’t know_ do _I?_ What he replied instead was:

**_I believe so. There’s no cost to me, correct?_ **

**No money will change hands, no.**

_What a weirdo_ , Louis thought, _who says shit like that anymore?_  

**_Alright, do you have any appointments available tomorrow?_ **

**I’m available right now, if that suits you.**

Louis blinked at his phone, looking up to the clock affixed to the wall in the staff room. His shift hadn’t even started yet, but by the time he was finished it would be dark outside and well past normal business hours, at least he _assumed_ they would be.

**_I’m afraid not, I’m working until 10pm. Is there another appointment available tomorrow, maybe something in the morning?_**  

**I assume that is some kind of joke. I do not do morning appointments.**

Louis scrunched his brows and his nose, _is this guy for real_? Before he could meditate on that for too long, another message came through.

**If it suits you, later this evening would work just fine for me. I should be rather quick and then you will be free to go.**

Louis recoiled, scrolling through his contacts and pressing ‘call’.

“He wants to meet me at _10 pm_. What the fuck, Grimmy?” Louis was incredulous. Nick simply laughed.

“Did I forget to mention he’s a total, erm, night owl? It’s fine, mate, that’s pretty standard for him,” Nick chuckled. Louis glared at the clock in front of him.

“If I end up diced up in a body bag somewhere, let it be know that this was _your fault_ ,” Louis declared.

“That theatre degree is practically paying for itself with how dramatic you are, love,” Nick giggled before hanging up.

So. Here he was. At nearly 11pm. Standing outside a stranger’s house. _For a dentist appointment._

Louis climbed the stairs without giving himself another chance to sprint all the way home. He raised his fist to knock gently on the wooden door, but before he could even get the first knock in, the door swung open.

Louis’ eyes widened with shock, standing before him was a man noticeably taller than him, broader too, with cascading brown curls and mossy green eyes. He blinked slowly at Louis while he stared on, eyes flitting over each of his pronounced features; from the firm set of his jaw, the gentle lilt of his cupid’s bow, to the soft flutter of his lashes. It _definitely_ took all of Louis’ strength not to linger on the man’s supple, rosy lips. 

“Hello, you must be Mr. Tomlinson, I’m Dr. Styles,” Dr. Styles extended his hand to Louis, his _very large hand with very long fingers_ , Louis noted.

“Call me Louis, please,” Louis practically whispered, surprised at the tightness of his voice. Dr. Styles had quite nearly taken his breath away.

“I extend the same offer to you; please, call me Harry.” Dr. Styles, _Harry_ , released Louis’ hand, stepping back and offering a wide berth for him to enter the flat.

Louis looked around the place, nervously looking out for anything off-putting. The front room was a clearly a living room, it had a strange collection of furniture designed after varying centuries and decades throughout history. Along the largest wall, mounted above a marble fireplace, there were four medium-sized portrait photos that looked like they were _ancient_.

“Is that supposed to be you?” Louis pointed to one of the portraits, it was of a boy who looked similar to the man standing in front of him, however his hair was cropped shorter and his face looked slightly younger, a little rounder in the cheeks.

“Yes, we had them done when I was fourteen,” Harry replied, a small tilt to his lips as he examined the paintings alongside Louis. “It was my father’s gift to my mother for their anniversary, she was quite pleased.” Harry fixed his hands behind his back before turning slightly to the left and beginning down a hallway. Louis blinked in surprise, the portraits couldn’t be from this century, let alone the past _decade_.

“This way, if you will,” Harry spoke off-handedly.

Louis couldn’t help but linger at the paintings for a moment longer, catching a glance at the plaque fixed to the bottom of Harry’s portrait: _Harry E. Styles, 1864. 1864? That...can’t be right_ . Louis was about to inquire about the strange caption, _maybe it’s a house number? Or a secret code?_ But as he turned to ask he noticed Harry had disappeared down the hallway. Swallowing his question, Louis scurried after him.

Down the hallway, Louis found a door ajar, he could hear Harry shuffling things around before he could see him. Entering the room cautiously, Louis took a moment to let his eyes scan everything in the vicinity, checking for any immediate red flags. Finding none, Louis allowed himself to examine the setup of what he supposed was Harry’s work space.

It was a clean room, which was comforting. The walls were a deep chestnut colour to match the wooden moulding and floorboards. Off to one side was a desk with various tools and supplies: rubber gloves, tongue depressors, a mouth mirror, drill heads, cotton balls. Beside it, a portable IV drip hung, the silver rod glinting in the warm lighting. Adjacent to the desk there was a sink with an array of soaps and hand sanitizers lining the rim. It all seemed pretty standard. The dentist chair, however, was rather intimidating in its own right.

It was made of a shiny black leather, despite the fact it was draped in a white disposable sheet. It was fixed to the ground with large silver bolts, a moveable magnifying glass fixed to the head of the seat. And then, attached to the arm rests, in a thick, brown leather and suede, _were wrist restraints._ Louis swallowed thickly, attempting to not show his apprehension on his face.

“Please, make yourself comfortable, Louis,” Harry gestured to the seat. Louis clenched and unclenched his fingers, trying to stop them from shaking. Louis hastily shuffled himself to the chair, refraining from having to use the small step stool beside the chair, he pulled himself into the seat, making sure to keep his hands in his lap.

Louis fidgeted nervously as Harry washed and dried his hands before snapping on a pair of rubber gloves.

“Alright, Louis, I’m going to administer a general anaesthetic now,” Harry began to wheel over the IV drip as the colour drained from Louis’ face.

“W-what do we need that for? Just some moulds, innit? For the crowns? Right?” Louis felt himself break out into a light sweat, his fingers squirming with his own grip.

“I—” Harry paused, furrowing his brows in a way that was unfairly endearing. Louis felt himself choke back a small smile at it. “I mean, yes, of course, we will do your moulds. But I suppose I just assumed—” Harry cut himself off again, removing the rubber gloves with a satisfying snap. “Are you sure?” Harry fixed his gaze on Louis’ eyes and Louis felt his heartbeat quicken up further so at the direct eye contact.

“I’m sure, no needles, please,” Louis mumbled. Harry blinked again, his mouth opening as if he was going to speak, closing just as quickly. Harry wheeled the IV back to the corner before tossing his rubber gloves into the trash bin and seating himself on a wheeled stool.

“Alright, I promise I’ll be quick,” Harry pulled his hair back in a flash, fastening it in a low bun with a few wispy curls springing free. “But, if it’s not too much of an intrusion, I think it would be safer if I restrained your hands.”

Louis felt himself inhale sharply and audibly, his whole body shuddering and jolting at Harry’s words. Louis felt tears well up in his eyes. Harry’s chair squeaked as he wheeled closer to Louis, his eyes earnest.

“I promise, I will not hurt you. I just feel, if you would rather not be unconscious, that it might be safer for you if you’re restrained. Everyone reacts differently, and I would hate for you to hurt yourself by losing control,” Harry spoke calmly and softly, there was no urgency in his tone, no underlying malice, he sounded genuine and honest, and at that Louis relaxed a bit.

“Have people injured themselves when you’ve done this before? Injured _you_?” Louis let his hands fall apart, but kept them in his lap. How many tooth mouldings would have to go wrong for a dentist to prefer his patients _unconscious or restrained_?

Harry chuckled lightly, his laugh ringing like the delicate pluck of harp strings.

“No, I myself have not been injured, but someone people...well, they flail or jolt at the first contact, and if they aren’t careful, it can be…” Harry rocked his head back and forth, searching for the right word. “ _Messy_.” Louis felt his pupils dilate as Harry locked eyes with him once again. There was a moment of thick silence, nothing but the sound of a clock ticking in the distance.

“O-okay,” Louis agreed, shakily placing his arms on the arm rests, his fists were clenched firmly, his nails digging into his palms.

“Please, relax your hands, it will make it more comfortable for you,” Harry reassured, laying his _ridiculously large hand_ over top Louis’ own. Immediately, Louis felt a rush of warmth, his cheeks flushed a pinkish shade, _almost as rosy as his lips_ , and his fists relaxed almost on their own accord.

Once his hands were both carefully draped on the rests, Harry began to nimbly fasten the straps, leaving Louis a breadth of wiggle room, most likely to quell Louis’ own nerves.

Wiggling his fingers, Louis felt his pulse thud as he watched Harry fasten the restraints with such delicate care, his thumbs occasionally brushing across Louis’ knuckles as a gesture of comfort. Despite barely knowing him at all, Louis felt a strange kind of trust in Harry, one that Harry seemed fixated on fostering through kindness and soft reassurances.

“Now, if you’ll just tilt your head like this, please,” With his thumb and forefinger lightly guiding Louis’ chin, Harry tilted Louis’ head up and slightly to the left. Louis felt his eyelashes flutter involuntarily. “Wonderful, just like that,” Just as quick as the light touch had appeared, it disappeared just as soon. Louis let his eyes slide shut, he could feel Harry’s breath on his cheek, his ear, slowly migrating to his neck.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Louis couldn’t help the way his cock twitched at the warm breathing, the thought of those supple lips so close to his skin made his senses tingle. This couldn’t be happening, this was too good to be true, a fever dream from the most romantic-novel-esque recesses of Louis’ imagination.

“Shh, just breathe. Let me... _relax_ you, first,” Harry murmured. “Makes it easier.” Harry continued his ministrations, light nips and nibbles on the thin skin.

“Do you always treat your patients with such care?” Louis felt himself mumble. He heard Harry chuckle.

“Only the pretty ones,” Louis felt Harry’s lips, delicate and cool, as they traced across his neck, trailing lightly in more almost-kisses. Louis couldn’t resist the soft moan that he breathed out. “And you, dear Louis, are _very_ pretty.”

Before Louis could say anything else, he felt Harry’s lips settle directly over his pulse, Harry’s tongue traced the spot with such lightness, almost as if he was marking the spot.

“Your skin tastes lovely,” Harry began, and Louis let out a less inhibited moan, the sound still quiet in the already silent room. “I can only imagine,” Harry continued, Louis felt himself arching up into Harry’s slow moving mouth. “That your blood tastes even better.” And then Harry _bit._

Louis let out a blood-curdling scream.

His hands immediately began flailing, his throat burning as he screeched in both pleasure and agony and _horror_. Almost as immediately as Harry’s teeth sunk in, Harry pulled back, horror-stricken and paler than before.

“Are you alright?” Harry’s eyes were doe-wide, his lips a deeper shade, wet and shiny _with Louis’ blood_.

Louis could only scream again, kicking and yanking at his arms, unable to find the words to speak.

Harry looked panicked, he quickly stood and retrieved a small piece of gauze and held it to Louis’ neck. Louis lurched away, squirming and thrashing his neck back and forth.

“What the fuck was that! You fucking _bastard_ , let me go! What the fuck was that? Who are you? Don’t fucking _touch me_ , get away from me!” Louis spat the words at Harry, trying his best in his position to get Harry as far from him as possible.

“I-I’m so sorry!” Harry shouted, trying to speak over Louis. “I-I just, I thought you _knew_! I thought, I-I thought you understood what was happening! I’m so sorry, I would never, I never, I—” Harry cut himself off as Louis started thrashing more violently.

“Let me go! Let me go, let me go let me g—” Louis words were muffled as Harry forced a hand over his mouth. It only made Louis scream louder.

“P-please, Louis, Louis _please_ stop screaming, you’ll wake the neighbours child, she’s only an infant, _please_ ,” Harry pleaded, his eyes soft in direct opposite of his grip. “Please let me explain myself, _please_.” Harry looked so shocked, his facial expression one of absolute regret and confusion and apology.

Louis stopped his screaming, not simply because Harry asked him to, but because he was beginning to feel lightheaded. Louis’ lungs heaved as he cut off his screaming.

Waiting a beat for silence on Louis’ end, Harry removed his hand and sat down on his stool once again.

“Louis, please, understand that I am full of regret. I had no idea you didn’t know what was to happen tonight, I thought you were aware of my...state of being,” Harry began, ever composed and civilized. Louis wanted to scream again, but refrained.

“I’m a vampire, Louis, and I feed off of my patients. I...I should’ve confirmed your understanding before this all happened, I’m truly so sorry that it got this far. Please just, _please_ know I would’ve never, _ever_ , done any of this if I hadn’t be confident that you were aware, that it was a consensual agreement.” Harry’s eyes, his green _green_ eyes, were so earnest and so full of absolute regret, Louis found himself feeling sympath—Wait _what_?

“Vampire?!” Louis shrieked incredulously.

“I—yes, yes I am a vampire. I was turned in 1874, shortly before my twenty-fifth birthday,” Harry explained. “I was in medical school, studying dentistry. I fell very ill before I was able to graduate, but I was given a second chance, a chance at immortality, and I took it. I’ve been living dead ever since.” Harry finished simply, licking his lips to clear any remaining blood from his mouth.

“Y-you,” Louis couldn’t find the words. What was there to say? “I don’t believe you.” Louis settled on.

“I...am afraid, you’re not in a position to disbelieve me, Louis.” Harry remained collected, though the slight upturn of his lips betrayed him.

“You’re not even a dentist,” Louis accused. “What were you planning on doing? Feasting and throwing me out, dazed and drained? Was that your plan all along? Free clinic, my fucking _arse_.” Louis spat the words at Harry, anger sliding in to replace the brief arousal Louis felt.

“No, I am, I promise!” Harry lifted his hands in a gesture of affirmation. “I’ve received my PhD, I go back to university every now and again to upgrade my skills, learn the new technology. Things have changed so much, but I always make sure to stay up to date as best I can,” Harry explained.

Louis was at a loss. What was there to say? Where did they go from here? How did Louis go on living his life, knowing he was almost a meal for a hundred plus year old _vampire_?

“Louis, listen, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I wish there was a way I could take it all back, alas, I cannot. Please, I ask for your forgiveness.” Harry reached out and rested his hands gingerly over Louis’ own. “I would never intentionally hurt you, or _anyone_.” Harry spoke reverently, his voice even and his stare open and truthful. Louis couldn’t imagine him hurting anyone, either.

“Harry I—” Louis stopped himself, what was he supposed to say? _Aw cheers, no hard feelings mate! Oh no big deal, now if you’d just let me free I’ll be on me way!_ “I accept your apology,” Louis began. “I blame Nick, for everything.” That pulled an honest laugh from Harry, it sounded like bells.

“I would have to agree that this is mostly his fault,” Harry agreed. “But I do also share that blame, for I never thought to _ask_ ,” Harry pursed his lips, weighing his words before he spoke. “Though I have to say, I’m quite pleased he sent you to me,” Harry lowered his eyes, his face suddenly bashful. “I meant what I said, you’re very pretty. Handsome, if you prefer. I find you very beautiful,” Harry said the last part of his statement while looking directly into Louis’ eyes. Louis felt his face redden yet again, his cock twitching in interest at the compliment. How he was still even _remotely_ aroused was beyond anything his brain could comprehend.

“Could you, uhm, unstrap me please?” Louis requested simply. Harry’s eyes widened in alarm, if they could, Louis’ sure Harry’s cheeks would also be flushed.

“Oh! Oh my, yes, yes of course, I’m sorry, again I—”

“You can stop apologizing. It was a misunderstanding, it happens,” Louis replied as Harry hastily unbuckled his wrists with practiced ease.

“I hope my honesty has not made you uncomfortable once more,” Harry inquired, resting his own hands in his lap.

“No, not at all. Uhm, thank you, for the—the compliments,” Louis replied somewhat awkwardly, scrunching his face at his lack of eloquence. “I also find you, erm, _pretty_.” Louis avoided eye contact, wringing his hands together. “But I’m sure you know that, you must get that a lot, I’m sorry that was silly I—” Louis was cut off by Harry’s fingers tracing his jawline.

“If we may start over?” Harry was smiling, his fangs on full display. “Hello, my name is Dr. Harry Edward Styles, I am 166 years old, and I am a vampire. I find you very beautiful, may I kiss you?” Harry allowed his thumb to trace Louis’ cheekbone reverently. Louis felt the air leave his lungs once again, rendered breathless by Harry’s eloquence, his mouth suddenly dry and his heart a steady thud in his ribcage.

“Hello, I’m Louis Tomlinson, I’m 26 years old and I have terrible friends, please kiss me.” And so he did.

They met in the middle in a tentative kiss, a simple press of lips, moving together, and acquainting with each other. Louis slid his hand to Harry’s shoulder, holding him near, while his other hand wound into Harry’s curls, releasing them from their bun.

Their lips parted with a quiet pop as Louis pulled back slightly. 

“Do you always treat your patients with such care?” Louis echoed his earlier words again, almost as a tease but also as a true inquiry for his own sake.

“Only the prettiest one, only you, never before, just you,” Harry murmured, his eyes slightly hooded but focused on meeting Louis’ stare. 

Breathing slowly, Louis leaned back in more firmly, pressing his lips with purpose, his tongue acquainting itself with the seam of Harry’s lips, gently prying and searching. Louis felt his skin prickle as his tongue traced one of Harry’s fangs.

“Do you like them as much as your body is telling me you do?” Harry breathed into the scarce space between them. Louis shivered.

“Is it that obvious?” Louis _would’ve_ been embarrassed, had he not been so caught up in the feeling of Harry’s hand sliding onto and up his thigh. “Y’know, we might’ve gotten to this point sooner if you’d just _asked_ ,” Louis teased lightly, tracing his lips and tongue over Harry’s jawbone and neck. Harry moaned. 

“I’ll ask now: Louis, may I feed off you?” Harry exhaled the words lowly into Louis’ ear. Louis felt chills race up his spine.

“ _Yes_.” Louis exhaled as Harry’s fangs sank in. This time, without a scream, rather with a whimper.

**Author's Note:**

> there was supposed to be a smut scene at the end of this but i honestly can't write smut to save my life, so i spared you all the pain and suffering™.
> 
> shoutout to triankletattoo on tumblr for reading this through, and thanks to the spideypool gc for encouraging this behaviour!


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